


Trickster

by inkandash



Series: Valkyrie [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandash/pseuds/inkandash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Darcy Lewis.<br/>From where she ends, to where she begins, and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And so it ends.

 

 

 

 

He was The Trickser.

And His plan was perfect.

All He had to do was wait.

 

* * *

 

Darcy Lewis grew up well on a small horse farm surrounded by the cornfields of Iowa. Like all teens she had her rebellions, but they mostly consisted of riding a motorcycle and smoking cigarettes. Unlike many of her peers, Darcy Lewis paid attention.

While the boys in her class were trying to get their hands up, or down, her shirt; she was reading up on international relations; fascinated at the political influences on economics. Her Junior year one of her teachers, Mr. Deal, gave her a stack of college applications, all for schools with strong political science programs.

Darcy left them on her desk for almost a year, not sure if she was ready to leave her home and her parents for a school; they were all so far away.

It was her mother who brought it up, she’d gone into Darcy’s room to get her laundry and she’d seen the packets, covered in dust and untouched.

When Darcy came home they were on the table, waiting.

Her mom wanted her to experience life on her own, to get a sense of self; her father only asked that she go wherever it was cheapest.

After a few nibbles from schools that well outstripped her financial capabilities, Darcy got her letter from Culver. Fall admission. Full Scholarship.

She moved two weeks before school started.

Her mom bought her new shoes and a good coat.

Her dad bought her a taser.

The dorm was little more than a closet. But she got her pick of sides, so there was that.

She also happily landed a job at the campus coffee shop, because a full scholarship did not include per diem and Darcy was determined not to be a burden on her financially strapped parents.

Three years later, with the occasional trip to see her parents on her own dime, Darcy was assistant manager at the coffee shop and well on her way to being done with her degree.

Culver had become her home. She’d moved from her tiny dorm into a studio apartment a block from the university. It was only a little bigger than her dorm, but it had a kitchen and it was _hers_.

She had made a couple good friends in her program, but with her hours at work and school she hadn’t become terribly close to any of them.

There had also been a few different boys, nothing serious, certainly nothing to write home about. More often than not any boy expressing interest in her thought she was easy because she had a rack. _Wrong_. Fortunately she never had to use her taser on any of them. But still. It sucked.

More than once she found herself staring enviously at curveless girls, wishing someone would take her seriously for a change.

Other than triggering occasional bouts of body issues, Darcy enjoyed working in the coffee shop.

Over the years she had gotten to know most of the grad students; one in particular was in every morning of late with her laptop. She sat at the same table and ordered the same drink and had the same depressed look on her face.

Every. Morning.

Darcy placed the large hazelnut latte on the table and picked up the five that was waiting for her.

“What’s up?” She asked with a grin.

The woman at the table looked up, bleary eyed and obviously exhausted, and stared blankly at Darcy.

Darcy picked up the cup, “Ok, is there anything I can do for you besides putting an extra shot or two in here?”

The woman shook her head and looked back at her computer.

Darcy returned with the extra-caffeinated coffee and gave it to the woman, who drank about half of it at once before looking at Darcy.

“Thank you.” She muttered.

Darcy shrugged, “Sure. Anything else?”

“Not unless you know someone who’s willing to be my intern.”

“What for?”

“Astrophysics.” She sounded defeated.

“Huh.” Darcy thought it over, “do you have to be an astrophysics major?”

“What?” The woman’s eyes seemed to clear, “Um, no. At this point I would take an English major. I just need an extra set of hands with a brain attached.”

Darcy held off on making a joke at the Kinesthetics department’s expense, “If that’s all you need I’m surprised no one’s gotten the job yet.”

The woman’s head dropped into her hands, “No one’s even applied.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, “I’m studying an astral phenomenon present in New Mexico, and no one’s willing to go all that way for a six unit semester.”

Darcy looked around, she was top of the food chain here, at least as high as she was ever going to get. Her studies were in good order, but there were some classes she could take that were offered over the web. She shrugged and looked back at the woman at the table, “Where do I apply?”

And that was how, with 20 units until graduation Darcy Lewis found herself on a plane to New Mexico with Jane Foster.

 


	2. And time always finds a way,

The Trickster paced in His rooms.

He had never been good at waiting.

But His time would come.

 

* * *

 

Jane, Darcy and Dr. Selvig stood at the gate in the sand, waiting. With each passing moment Darcy felt her heart break a little more for her boss and friend.

But Jane wasn’t the damsel in distress give-up-and-cry type; that was one of the things that Darcy really liked about her; she sucked it up and kept pushing her research.

By the end of the semester Darcy was only a couple classes shy of graduating and Jane had a mountain of data to go through. Together they packed up the lab and returned to Culver.

The university was in the middle of landscaping large parts of the commons, and if Darcy had to guess it looked like there had been a war.

According to the internet there had been a Hulk.

Darcy shook off the creepy youtube videos and settled in.

She picked up a couple shifts at the coffee shop, continued assisting Jane and completed her last three classes.

With Jane’s recommendation she applied for a few schools for her Masters; Darcy was shocked when she got into her first choice, Columbia. But even with their scholarship there was no way she could afford it, the living expenses alone were enough to drain her meager savings in two months flat.

When she walked across the stage at her graduation she was happily surprised to see Jane in the crowd. After the ceremony she introduced her parents to Jane; Dr. Selvig conspicuously absent, off working on a project of some kind.

After polite small talk her parents took Darcy and Jane to dinner. With dessert Darcy was given her graduation present. A small apartment in NY for three months, on the condition that she get a job and continue her education at Columbia.

And so, after a visit home for the summer, Darcy Lewis moved to New York.

* * *

Once Darcy got her class schedule in order she went to look for a job, which was not as simple as she thought it would be. For starters, she had done little shopping before her move, and her interview wardrobe was painfully lacking. Shopping proved difficult, as it seemed stores didn’t account for having a shape, other than that of a prepubescent boy.

At last, Darcy found a store that specialized in retro style clothes, perfect for her figure; that still looked professional, unlike what she had left from her days of thrift store finds and ugly sweaters.

Once she hit pavement though, Darcy found herself with a whole ‘nother problem, _everyone_ was looking for a job.

She didn’t give up; and pulled on a comfortable pair of pumps, high wasted black slacks, and a men’s cut white collared shirt and walked in a spiral out from her apartment, leaving resumes wherever they would take them.

And that was how she found herself in the lobby of Stark Tower.

She waited patiently for an opportunity to turn in her resume.

Someone would be with her shortly.

An hour later no one had come, and Darcy was getting impatient.

When pressed the receptionist confessed that they were a little pressed for HR personnel that day and it may take longer than normal. Two hours after that Darcy had had quite enough, of everything. The HR staff, the receptionist, Fruit Ninja, _all of it_.

She walked back up to the desk, eyeballing the receptionist, “Excuse me, I’ve been waiting-” was as far as she got before she was interrupted.

“Yes, someone will be with you shortly.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed, “ _Shortly_ implies that the wait will take less than an hour, less than an hour and a half allowing for extenuating circumstances. I don’t care what you do with it, put it in the vertical file for all I care, but someone is taking this from me. I didn’t wait for three hours just to be told to go home when you shut down for today.”

The receptionist didn’t respond, she simply picked up the phone and told the person on the other end that they had an ‘applicant’.

A half an hour later a man in a suit took her resume and asked her some questions; mostly BS, but Darcy answered them all politely.

As she left she noticed a man walking through the lobby like he was on a tour, he would stop and read all the posters, look at all the artwork.

He glanced at her as she walked towards the door, and towards where he stood. Tall and blond, square jawed and blue eyed, wearing khakis and a plaid button-down that looked like it might tear if he flexed too hard.

With a smirk and an extra sway in her hips, _because why not_ , Darcy left the building.


	3. For light is time,

  
  
  
The Trickster drummed his fingers.

The slow march of the planets

Had never seemed this slow.

 

 

Three weeks later, after some dead end interviews at a variety of places, Darcy got a call from Stark Industries.

She had an interview.

To say it was unexpected would be an understatement, after her show in the lobby she hadn’t expected anything, but she wasn’t going to turn it down.

She pulled out her most professional looking outfit, reminding herself wryly that her days of comfortable jeans and ugly sweaters were done, and she was going to have to dress like a grown up from here on in.

With a sigh she pulled on a knee length pencil skirt with a little flare at the bottom, and a wine colored blouse. She forced her hair into and untidy bun and brightened her eyes and lips with some color. Slipping on some black pumps she grabbed her purse and she was ready to go.

The walk was short and while she got a few glances no one hassled her, something she was thankful for, she thought as she pushed her way into the lobby.

To her surprise there was almost no one there, and the few people that were there seemed to be scrambling. She went to the desk to check in, but as she stood waiting she felt tingles on her spine, and knew something was wrong.

She turned from the desk, dizzy and disoriented, and she could smell it; metal and blood and salt and dirt, it was overpowering and she staggered under the weight of it.

Telling herself that the building has a bad air filter Darcy pushes through the door, determined to get fresh air in her lungs,.

She makes it to the street.

And then the sky opens.

 

* * *

 

There’s a lot Darcy can’t remember after that. She takes cover in the coffee shop across the street with nearly a hundred other people. They cower as the world falls apart around them.

Things that shouldn’t exist, but do exist and Darcy can hear the word _aliens_ being said in serious conversations. There are flying sleds and energy weapons and Darcy tells herself that if Thor exists then so must these things, whatever they are.

And as she waits for the aliens to find their hiding spot she sees, for the first time, that there really are heroes hiding in New York.

A very familiar eight foot tall green man is using the city like a jungle gym, tearing the aliens apart as he goes; the Hulk, from Culver, and the realization is somehow comforting.

There’s Iron Man, blowing stuff up, because that’s what he does best, but he’s saving people, so perhaps he does that best too.

A blur of silver and red and blonde flies past and she’s pretty sure it’s Thor; when the lightening starts she’s positive.

Then the aliens find them, and Darcy’s not sure if her taser is going to do any good, even if one of them gets in range. And then a man that looks like the American flag threw up on him is punching the aliens with his shield. One grabs his mask and tears it off, but before Darcy can get a good look at the guy he’s blown through the window by a blast that Darcy was sure was meant for them.

As the cops guide her out of the building and she can barely see anything through the fire and the smoke, but she knows he’s there, the man that saved them. She knows he’s ok.

She is well away from Stark Tower and the epicenter of destruction when she sees him, Iron Man, falling from the sky. She sees the Hulk catch him and then nothing.

And there is a moment, fleeting and she can’t quite grasp it, but she _knows_ that Tony will be ok; he has to be, it’s not his turn.

And then someone collides with her and the moment is gone.

 

 * * *

 

Darcy’s apartment has been mercifully spared, and she curls up under her covers determined never to come out again.

At least not until Jane is at her door with a pint of vanilla and a six-pack of Guinness.

Darcy’s wearing her comforter like a cape, and she doesn’t care, it’s fluffy and warm and comforting dammit.

“Beer floats?” Jane offers with a smile.

“Get your ass in here.”

Jane pulls down two glasses and starts making floats and Darcy asks the only question she has, the only question anyone has in this whole damn city; “So what happened?”

Jane shrugs, “I’m not really sure, some stuff to do with my research. Apparently Erik was involved,” Darcy looked at her sharply, concern evident on her face, “He’s fine,” Jane continued, “and Thor was here but he had to go back, and I’m probably more confused that you.”

“What are you doing now?”

“With everything that happened Erik has asked me to come work with him, he’s hoping that he can use whatever it was that opened the sky to create a smaller and more stable doorway.”

“So you’ll get your Rainbow Bridge.”

Jane laughed, “More or less.” She looked at Darcy more seriously, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m not asking for much, just a set of hands with a brain attached.”

Darcy smiled at the shared memory. Jane bumped shoulders with her, “Bonus if it’s your brain.”

Darcy looked into her glass, as Jane cinched the deal, “You’ll get paid.”

“Where’s the job?”

“Stark Industries.”

Darcy snarfed her float, “ _what?_ ”

“Please?” Jane pleaded.

“You know I was there for an interview the morning of the attack right?”

“No! This is perfect, they’ll already have you on file; we can just approve you and get rolling.”

Jane snatched her phone off the table and fired off some text messages.

“What about my degree?” Darcy asked, suddenly remembering she was supposed to be in NY for school.  
  
Jane smiled knowingly, “I’m sure your boss will be willing to work around your class schedule.”

Darcy hides her happiness with another long drink, then nodded, “So what’s the dress code?”

“Clothes?”

“But no business suits or anything?”

“I don’t care, as long as you don’t sunbathe nude again.”  
  
“Hey, it was your fault for not knocking.”  
  
“It’s a roof Darcy. You can’t knock on a roof.”

 


	4. But there is hope,

  
  
  
  
  
He had never been patient.

The Trickser had no need of patience.

And the wait began to chafe.

 

 

Darcy showed up for her first day at work in torn jeans and an old tee shirt. The building was still in repairs, but Jane’s lab was up and running and it was filled with people.

Erik looked haunted, and a little frantic, but Darcy slipped seamlessly into her old role and that seemed to help steady him. She spoke about her studies, and her life, and when he questioned himself, asked what he was doing, she answered.

She met Tony, who was smarter than she ever thought to give him credit for, and despite his lecherous reputation he never once talked to her boobs. His eyes were always on hers, his questions about her background and skills were legitimate, warranted, and when he gave her his coffee order there was not a double entendre to be found.

She met Bruce, who took a while to warm to her, but was revealed to have a sharp mind and sharper wit. Darcy made it her daily mission to get him to laugh, then to talk, and then to talk and laugh at the same time. He was haunted, but weren’t they all? And when he wasn’t sure if he should be there Darcy hacked his computer and changed the background to people he’d saved, people he’d helped, children painted green and smiling, parents behind them grateful they are still a family. He would look at her over the top of his screen, from under that mess of hair, and she could see his smile in his crows feet.

She met Natasha and Clint, who never stayed long, the lab and the tower were not their place, not the way it was Tony and Bruce and Jane’s. But they would come and take Tony and Bruce to train, sometimes Natasha would ask if Darcy wanted to learn hand to hand, Darcy would scoff, because really; the Black Widow has better things to do, and Darcy has a taser.

It is a month before she meets Steve Rogers, the man from the lobby, Captain America. Tony makes a joke about where Steve’s been for the past month; Steve says something about Tony owing him a fight, Tony shuts up.

Steve comes to the lab often that second month; sometimes with Clint and Natasha, sometimes alone, sometimes to get Tony and Bruce to train, sometimes to ask questions. He never says more than three words to Darcy, always polite but never talkative. She tries the laughing and talking thing that worked with Bruce, but Steve just clenches his jaw and nods, and when he has to speak he does so at a minimum. Darcy gives up, and she and Steve avoid each other with a radius of no less than six feet.

Darcy doesn’t notice the way Steve looks at her when she’s hunched over paperwork or leaving for a coffee run. She doesn’t notice the way he opens his mouth to say something, and then shuts it again. She doesn’t notice that sometimes he comes to the lab with questions that he could have easily found the answers to by asking anyone on staff.

Steve doesn’t notice the furtive glances that Darcy shoots him from behind her hair as he talks to Tony. He doesn’t notice how she keeps the Food Only refrigerator in the lab stocked with chocolate milk just for him. He certainly never notices the way she mutes her iPod as soon as he’s in the room and listens to everything he says, no matter what the subject.

Jane notices, so does Tony and Bruce, but Jane is who confronts Darcy.

“What’s the deal with you and Steve?”  
  
“Is there a deal? Because I can’t get him to talk to me long enough to tell if there is.”

“Darcy-”

“He saved my life ok? I was in the coffee shop, the one he got blown out of, and he’s the reason I’m alive and what am I supposed to say to that?”

“Thank you?”  
  
“Seriously Jane.”

“I am serious, does he know? Did you tell him?”

“No.” Darcy replied sullenly, “I didn’t want to seem like some idiot fangirl.”

“Well, maybe thank him. See where that goes.”

And so she does, she tells him about the café, and how she kept the clothes because it’s stupid but she always keeps the clothes she was wearing when aliens hit. And for the first time he almost smiles and asks “How often does that happen?”

And she says, “Twice. New York and New Mexico. And I’m starting to think I shouldn’t spend time in any states that have New in the name.”

“New Mexico?”

“Thor. I was there when he landed. Literally.”

Steve nods, “He does like to make an entrance.”

Darcy laughs this time, “Yeah. You know I tased him?”

Steve raises an eyebrow and responds, “I took a hammer to the shield; reverb knocked him back twenty feet onto his ass.”

“Nice.” She looks at her shoes, she can feel the conversation dying around them, “Look I’m sorry if I offended you or something.”

And he looks at her, face calm and she swears to herself that she will never play poker with him unless she plans on losing, and he says, “You didn’t.” and he opens his mouth to say something else, but what comes out is, “I should go.” And she can see that wasn’t what he was planning to say, but he leaves and it is a week before she sees him again.

Jane doesn’t ask. And Darcy doesn’t talk about it. But they both know she keeps one eye on the door.   
  
And when he does finally come back to the lab, she knows it's not to see her.

 

* * *

 

Thor always makes an entrance; it’s a Thursday, which is appropriate really, and Darcy finds herself agreeing with Arthur Dent as Thor is knocked on his ass by Jane.

Steve shows up to see what just crashed into the building to find Tony and Bruce focusing on their work, as though their collogue and a god aren’t making out on the sanitized linoleum floor.

Darcy glances unconsciously at Steve, wetting her lips with her tongue, pulling her lower lip between her teeth, letting it catch there. Steve is looking back at her and she sees him take a deep and shaky breath before he spins away suddenly and leaves the room.

She doesn’t have time to think about Steve or his reaction because Thor starts talking, in that _I am a god_ voice, and she had no choice but to listen.

“My friends, I am afraid my visit is not for pleasant reasons.” He is standing now, with Jane in the crook of his arm, holding her to his chest.

“Did Loki escape?” Tony asks, glad that Erik was out for the day and Clint was off with Natasha.

“Nay. There is a Valkyrie loose here on Midgard, and we know not from whence she came.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know where she came from?” this from Bruce, “She came from Asgard.”

“That would be impossible, all of the Valkyries of Asgard are accounted for, there are none missing.”

“Where did she come from?” Bruce again.

“I know not. I only know that Heimdall spoke of her power and strength and that if she is not found the result could be catastrophic.”

“Can Heimdall find her?” Darcy spoke, the words rushing out of her mouth.

Thor shook his head, “He can feel her, and he says he can see shadows, but she is shrouded from his sight.”

“Loki?” Steve had returned, his voice was tight, measured, and Darcy kept her gaze trained on Thor.

“Loki has been bound, he is little more than mortal now. He has not the power for this magic.” Thor sighed, weary, “We know nothing of her, and if she is here to bring death, it is only a matter of time before your world pays that price.”

“Death?” Tony sounded unimpressed.

“And the forfeit of their eternal souls.”

“Ah.” Tony again, slightly less unimpressed this time.

“A Valkyrie can’t do that.” Darcy interjected, “they’re bound to the battlefield aren’t they?”

Jane looked at her, surprised.

“What? It was a good book.” Darcy said indignantly.

Jane smiled and rolled her eyes, who could have known a child’s storybook would have held so much truth.

Thor shook his head again, “A Valkyrie of Asgard perhaps, but . . .” he let his sentence hang, he had no more answers.

“And you want us to find her?” Bruce broke the silence.

Thor faced him, his arm still around Jane, “Yes, if you can.”

The room was silent, and though Darcy liked to joke about Tony’s brain being run by a hamster on a wheel; she could almost see the wheel turning and she knew if there had been a hamster it would have to be rocket powered.

A light seemed to fire in his eyes and Tony suddenly turned to the nearest screen, “Everything, all of us, give off minor amounts of gamma radiation.” He turned to look at Thor, “Except you big guy. You’re a little empty spot in our local gamma field.”

“So?” Thor was confused, Bruce however, picked up exactly where Tony was going.

“So we build a gamma map, dial it down to just what humans emit, eliminate interference from beta and alpha particles, and look for another hole like you.”

“You can do that?” Thor was wary.

Jane untucked herself from his arm, “If we use the isolation principals I’ve been developing for the bridge we could have this mapped within a year.”

“What about spikes? Abnormal amounts of gamma waves?” Steve looked at Bruce who frowned in agreement.

Tony waved his hand, “We’re not looking for them; anything over 5 mSv won’t even register.”  
  
Bruce and Tony and Jane were already working by the end of Tony’s sentence.

Thor moved to greet Steve, and Darcy couldn’t look away from the flex in Steve’s hand and the square of his shoulders as he welcomed Thor.

Thor turned to Darcy, picking her up in a bear hug the way an older brother might, and Steve felt a flare of jealousy that Thor got to touch Darcy like _that_.

Darcy said her ‘see you later’s to Thor as he left to check in with Fury and notify him of the situation, she watched Steve turn to go with him.

She did not see Steve look back at her as he passed through the door. She did not see him take the same ragged breath as earlier. She did not see him turn away, head down, shoulders hunched, unable to say the words he’d held in his mouth for so long.


	5. There is no return.

  
  
  
The thought in His mind

Like a worm and an apple

He rejected it.

 

Christmas came, everyone stayed except Erik, even Darcy who could have gone home to Iowa stayed to support the team. They couldn’t stop working for long enough to have a real holiday, but that didn’t stop Darcy; because Christmas is a _thing_ and you can’t _not_ have it.

She sets up a small tree in the penthouse, decorating it with dollar store knock off Avengers action figures that she’s hot glued with little hooks. She dismantles an old solar system model and paints the planets to match the branches of Yggdrasil; Pepper donates one of Tony’s old arc reactors for the star.

Christmas Eve morning they drag the team upstairs, everyone’s silent for a moment, then the talking starts:

Bruce - “Why am I grey?”

Steve - “My shield is wrong, and I don’t look like that do I?”

Tony - “Who the fuck is Iron Guy?”

Thor - “I did not know your people still celebrated Yule. Are you aware your celebration is three days late?”

Jane - “That’s not the only thing that’s late.”

Tony - “This skirts the absolute edges of copyright infringement.”

Pepper - “Smile and enjoy it Tony.”

Darcy - “Yeah, well I didn’t have the money to go buying the official figures and gluing them to the tree.”

Tony - “You did this all yourself?”

And Darcy noticed the room has stopped to listen to her and Tony, she shifts her feet uncomfortably, “Well yeah, and you can’t _not_ have Christmas.”

“Are we doing gifts?” it’s the first time Steve’s spoken directly to her in a month.

She doesn’t here the catch in his voice, or how hard he’s working to keep it steady, just the tension.

Darcy shrugs and struggles to keep her voice light, “If you want to.” She doesn’t mention that she’s bought them all gifts, and he can only hear her pretense at ambivalence. He leaves immediately, and Darcy tells herself she doesn’t care.

When she goes to her room to pack stockings and wrap presents she doesn’t see the way the rest of the team is watching her.

“They have no idea do they?” asks Pepper.

The team shakes they heads; almost in unison, still in shock.

“There’s a pool,” says Tony.

“Put me down for Darcy’s birthday,” says Pepper.

“Why?” he counters, “Is it taken?” she challenges, “No.” he admits.

Pepper smiles, her eyes twinkling with years of experience, “Call it a hunch.”

 

* * *

 

Christmas morning comes and so do presents, and stockings, and coffee, and a fire in the rarely-used fireplace, and iced cinnamon rolls, and monkey bread, and oranges.

First they get stockings, nothing special she thinks; but Darcy has managed to get everyone their favorite coffee or tea, gelt, an orange, and a Lego character of themselves; Jane and Pepper get custom characters that Darcy has pieced together herself. The team is astounded and Darcy blushes as they all give her heartfelt thanks.

Tony plays Santa and hands everyone their presents, the sitting area becomes a massacre of tissue paper, ribbons, gift wrap and bags.

Jane gives Darcy a brown and orange striped sweater with appliquéd Christmas trees that have real bells for ornaments and led lights that really light and tiny twinkling stars.

“That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.” Tony is clearly offended by the hideousness of it all.

“That’s the point.” “She has a collection.” Say Darcy and Jane together. Darcy laughs, pulling the sweater over her head, as she pushes back her hair she sees Steve smiling and she wishes she could make him smile like that.

She sticks out her tongue at Tony and flips on the lights of the sweater, and Steve wishes she looked at him that way.

Tony and Pepper give her a new phone, already full of her music collection, and Darcy starts babbling about it being the best gift ever and wanting to go play with it and Steve starts to regret what he got her.

Thor gives her a necklace with a stylized version of Mjölnir in Celtic knotwork hanging from a thin silver chain. She exclaims, “Mewh Mew!” and Jane and Thor seem to know what she’s talking about and they laugh.

She opens Bruce’s gift next and gasps, it’s a glass bubble with something growing in it, and as Bruce explains that it’s a BioSphere and completely contained, it’s her own little world just for her.

Steve scowls, wishes he’s thought of that, now his gift just seems stupid and if she wasn’t already fiddling with the wrapping paper he would probably just take it back.

Darcy opens her present from Steve last, telling herself that the order she went through her gifts was totally random, and not at all because she is nervous about what he got her. The package is small, square and Darcy knows from years of experience it’s a CD case. She opens the paper and the case to find a plain white CD with Steve's exact handwriting in Sharpie, with the words "Gershwin Mix" curved around one side.

“I just, uh, Tony showed me how to put music from the computer onto a CD, and I thought you’d like it, you know because you like music and stuff.” And Steve is kicking himself for not being able to say a whole sentence without stumbling. And Darcy is telling herself he doesn’t know, because he was asleep for 70 years, how could he possibly know the connotations of giving a girl a mix-tape? So she tells herself that it’s just a CD and smiles tightly as she thanks him.

Steve watches her thank him and he knows, without a doubt, that she hates the CD. She probably doesn’t even know who the Gershwins are; it’s the dumbest idea he’s ever had and he should have gone with earrings or something.

She doesn’t really pay attention to what anyone else got, just to the look on Steve’s face when he opens her present and pulls out a box of pastels. She doesn’t even know if he uses pastels. And she feels stupid; because even if he didn’t know it, his present is sweet and thoughtful and hers is, like, the most basic thing you can get for an artist.

Steve turns the box over in his hands, there’s no way she could know, and it’s not something he ever talks about; but Steve’s never owned pastels. He could never afford them. And when he finally had some money he was too busy killing Nazis to make art. And this is the first time in his life someone has taken his work seriously enough to buy him more than just pencils and paper.

Darcy gets a thank you hug from everyone, even Steve; and she forces herself not to melt into him, not to take a deep breath of his shirt, his smell, to hug him back lightly and then let him go.

Steve spends the hug not burying his face in her hair, not wishing he could do this every day, not wondering what will happen if he ever manages to say something to her, and then he lets her go, as though everything is fine and he’s not completely heartbroken.  

 

* * *

 

One night, three months into the gamma map development, two months after Christmas, Darcy shows up at Jane’s door. Darcy is exhausted from spending her free time for the past months doing little more than scanning all the news from anything that Jarvis thinks might relate to the Valkyrie.

There is a lot of news.

There is no Valkyrie.

She has a pint of vanilla and a sixpack of Guinness, “Beer floats?” she offers.

“I can’t,” Jane says as she lets Darcy into the apartment.

“So sleep in tomorrow, you’ve been running yourself ragged, you deserve a night off.”

“No. Darcy. I _can’t_.” She says as she takes the ice cream from Darcy, opens the fridge and pulls out chocolate syrup, she gouges out a scoop of ice cream and squeezes the chocolate on it.

Darcy watches her, and it all clicks, Jane’s level of stress, her sudden inexplicable hatred for Pop Tarts and equally sudden need to drink all of Steve’s chocolate milk; not that Steve came around to drink it any more but still; “You’re pregnant? How?”

And Jane gives her the patented, ‘are you fucking kidding me right now’ look.

“Ok I know, like, _how_ , but…does Thor know?”

Jane nodded, stuffing more ice cream into her face.

“And?”

“He’s ecstatic.” She said around a mouthful of vanilla and chocolate.

“And you?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this and there’s just so much that can go wrong and I didn’t even this it was possible genetically and Bruce is going to want to study it and _Tony_ I am never going to hear the end of this from him and-”

“Jane calm down,” Darcy interrupted, “that’s half Thor in there, he or she’ll be _fine_.”

Jane looks as though she wants to argue but she swallows the words with the rest of the ice cream and gouges out some more.

“How far along are you?”

“Almost three months.”

“Wow. You didn’t waste any time on that did you?”  
“He’s the god of fertility Darcy!”

“Well I knew that, when did you find out?”

“Two months ago.”

Darcy was lost in laughter; head tilted back, hands waving about and tells Jane, “You’ll be fine.” With an air of finality that suggests there is no other way Jane can be, and they eat ice cream and chocolate together, the beer forgotten.

 

* * *

 

Tony and Bruce are mostly quiet about Jane’s pregnancy.

Mostly.

Bruce keeps asking if she needs anything, and he’s taken it upon himself to stock the Food Only refrigerator with everything that a growing tadpole needs.

Jane hates it when Darcy calls it a tadpole, Darcy does it anyway.

Steve offers his congratulations with a card and a vintage Bucky Bear and Captain America doll set. There’s no way Jane will ever let the baby near them, but she thanks him and puts them on the baby’s bookshelf.

In the weeks following Jane and Thor’s announcement Steve comes unannounced to the lab, he sits quietly in the corner and sketches Jane at work, Thor and Jane together when he is in Midgard, and Thor alone as he watches Jane being brilliant. He documents Jane's ever growing belly and the ethereal glow that seems to surround her, he tells them that he's doing a baby journal, so that the baby can see what its parents were like before it was born. Thor and Jane think it's a wonderful idea, and Steve becomes a fixture in the lab. He is getting better at hiding things, and if there are increasingly more sketches of Darcy thinking, pushing her hair behind her ear, listening to her iPod, focusing on homework for classes that have nothing to do with her day job, well; no one knows about it but him.

Tony is conspicuously silent and doesn’t say anything until three months after the announcement he walks into the lab with schematics for a remodeled apartment. Because if the baby is half Thor then _everything_ needs to be reinforced. Jane says they can’t really afford it, Tony tells her it’s his gift to her as the baby’s godfather and to shut the hell up.

Erik takes direct offence to Tony’s assumption, demanding that he be the baby’s godfather, and a shouting match ensues, punctuated by threats and cursing in both English and Swedish. Thor is away, and Jane is shaking her head in exasperation. It is Steve who breaks up the argument, reminding them that the baby will have more godparents than it knows what to do with, both human and Asgardian.

Darcy laughs silently at the whole situation, and if she’s thinking of babies and looking at Steve, well, no one has to know.

 

* * *

 

Seven months after Thor’s return the gamma map is up and the scans begin, but the planet is big and they are counting themselves lucky that the Valkyrie has not yet surfaced.

Darcy goes to her classes in the morning, hoping each day that the afternoon brings a discovery, some days they think they might have something; others they are certain this was all the worst idea any of them has ever had.

“Even,” as Bruce tells her on a particularly bad day, “worse than the time I tested gamma radiation on myself.”

The days begin to cool and summer wans, and Darcy knows the crows back home are picking though what is left of the corn harvest, the team makes their discovery.

Jane is positively waddling as she walks over to fill Darcy in; they haven’t found the Valkyrie, per se, but they have a lock on the hole she created in the map. It’s the first time she’s ever appeared and they couldn’t be more excited.

After working well into the night to perfect the ‘cute little algorithm’ that Tony's created, they can expect a precise track on her within twelve hours.

Darcy scowls.

“What’s wrong with my favorite mascot?”  
  
“Shut up Tony, I wanted to be here when you guys found her.”

“Where will you be?”

“Class.”

“You can ditch. I’ll even set you up with a wicked doctor’s note.”

Darcy smiled and shook her head, “No, I have a test and I need to take it and just get it over with.”

Tony shrugged, “You’re the one missing out.”

Darcy is already gone to class when Jane’s water breaks. Bruce takes Jane to the birthing room that Tony had especially built for her and Thor, just in case. Her contractions are close together and Bruce assures her that this is the real deal. Jarvis pages Thor, who comes running.

Jane is almost fully dilated and Thor is with her as the Valkyrie program finishes its run.

Three floors down the computer pings, Steve is closest to the monitor.

“Check that would you?” Tony asks.

Steve puts down his pencil and walks to the computer.

“So whatta we got?” Tony glances up as he speaks and sees Steve pale and shaking. 

Steve looks up at him and Tony can see the fear in his eyes, “Steve what is it?”

Tony runs to the computer and stares at screen. After a moment he looks back at Steve, “Suit up.”

Steve nods, running from the room, Tony is calling for Thor and his suit.

Thor comes at a run, “Could this not wait-” Thor begins, but Tony won’t let him finish.  
  
“We found her.” The Iron Man suit whirrs as the joints lock together. Thor’s mind is on other things and he looks at Tony in confusion. “We found your Valkyrie.” Tony clarifies.

“Where is she?” Thor’s hand flexes into a fist.

“Columbia University,” says Captain America from the doorframe, his voice hollow, “With Darcy.”

 


	6. And the stormy sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is fighting and violence and a mild case of the dead in this chapter. If that bothers you or, heaven forbid, triggers you, I would just skip this round.

  
  
  
It would be impossible

He was The Trickster

The Trickster did not err

 

Tests have never been something that Darcy enjoys, multiple choice tests particularly so.

She taps her pencil on the edge of the desk, bouncing her leg in time to music only she can hear. The teacher coughs and looks pointedly at Darcy.

Darcy stops. Glares in return and bubbles in an answer.

Still scowling she reads the next question, she’s half way though it when she knows the answer, she rolls her eyes and bubbles in another space.

This is the only class she hates. And it’s a requirement. So it’s pass the class or spend _another_ semester in the same chair, being spoonfed the same information, taking the same damn tests.

Darcy does not have time for that amount of bullshit.

So she doesn’t ditch, she goes to class, she takes the test; fifty questions, each one a stellar example of common multiple choice format.

One question, four possible answers, two that are absolutely wrong, and two that could be right; the correct answer is always dictated by what her teacher _thinks_ is the correct answer, not necessarily what is true.

She sighs, frowns, and bubbles in what her teacher expects, over and over and over.

She affords herself a moment on question forty two to wonder what the team found when the program finished its run, where the team is now, and how good Steve looks in uniform.

 

* * *

 

She stood next to Jane, holding her hand, silently reassuring her, “He will come back.” She says, because she knows what it means to love someone and watch them leave you behind to go running headlong into death itself.

Bruce is checking her vitals, he’s telling Jane that she’s too far effaced for any kind of epidural, and for a moment Jane worries about the pain.

And then she looks up, into eyes that have seen more pain than anyone else she knows, and the hand holding hers flexes, squeezing gently, “You can do this,” she says, and Jane knows she’s right.

Another contraction comes and Jane gasps with the pain of it, squeezing the hand in her grip, the hand squeezes back, and Jane knows she’s not alone.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She says.

Jane nods and looks from Natasha to Bruce, and relaxing into the knowledge that she isn’t alone.

 

 * * *

 

Steve’s fists are clenched, hiding the shake in his hands as Hawkeye powered up the Quinjet.

“I’m not getting anything on any of the channels; it’s possible that the Valkyrie doesn’t know we know about her.” Hawkeye’s voice cutting through the tension in the air.

“Possible, but I like being prepared.” Iron Man says, and Steve knows he’s right.

Prepare for the worse hope for the best. But Steve doesn’t want to even consider the worst, he just wants to get out there, wrap this whole Valkyrie thing up into a bow, ship it to Asgard and maybe _maybe_ work up the nerve to ask Darcy out for coffee or something.

“We know that the Valkyrie is at Columbia,” says Iron Man, “when we’re on the ground Jarvis will activate a local gamma map that will pinpoint her location, we get in, we get the Valkyrie and we get out. No muss no fuss.”

Captain America listened to Iron Man, heard his words, but Steve was lost to thoughts of Darcy. He knew the mission, _get the Valkyrie_ , and he knew the mission was important, that it should come first; even Thor on today of all days was able to concentrate on the mission. Steve felt weak; he knew that there was no way he’d be able to concentrate on that without knowing Darcy was safe. The Valkyrie could be standing right in front of him and he wouldn’t care; not if Darcy was still unaccounted for. He took solace in knowing that once she was safe, all bets were off, and the Valkyrie wouldn’t know what hit her.

Iron Man was looking at him, he stared back, “You know if you want to go get Darcy out of there while we find this Valkyrie-” the sentence hung in the air and though Tony never actually said the words it occurred to him that Tony knew; and if Tony knew . . .

“Does everybody know?” asked Steve, pitching his voice to fill the jet.

“Know what?” hollered Hawkeye.

“That Steve is enamored of Lady Darcy.” Thor called back.

Hawkeye barked out a laugh, “Yeah man, we all know.”

Steve looked at the floor between his feet.

The jet pulled around to full view of Columbia. Hawkeye stared out the window; his eyes, good as they were, had a hard time believing what they saw.

Steve felt Thor’s hand clasp him on his shoulder, “Have no shame in your feelings my friend. Lady Darcy is a beautiful young woman-”

“What is that?” Hawkeye called out to the men in the cabin behind him.

Standing on what had been the main lawn of the Columbia campus were what looked like men, but they were huge, blue, and covered in intricate scars.

Captain America heard Thor snarl, “Those” he said, “are Jotun, your people called them frost giants.”

 

* * *

 

Darcy took special pleasure in bubbling in question fifty, finally done with her ridiculous test. She dropped the test and the scantron on the table and pushed her way out of the room, putting her earbuds in as she did so. Her thoughts drifted to the team, they had probably found the Valkyrie by now, and a part of her was sad she wasn’t there with them.

She hit the play button on her iPod as she walked out into the open air, _Someone to Watch Over Me_ began and she closed her eyes. Steve filled her thoughts his eyes and smile and the way he was so kind to everyone on the team, even her, even though he didn’t really like her, even though just talking to her seemed like a chore. She listened to him talk and she knew that if he gave her five minutes they could be friends and then maybe; she sighed and rubbed her hand across her face. She had to do something about the crush, it was getting ridiculous.  

She could ask him for coffee, play it off as a friend thing if he was offended, but then he was from another time, literally, would he be offended? Would he think her too forward and want nothing to do with her, worse than now? She took a deep breath and sighed, resolved to at least say something the next time she saw him.

Suddenly someone collided with her. Darcy opened her eyes to see people running from the quad into the buildings; ahead of her the Quinjet hovered above a cluster of frost giants out of the story book.

Her heart stops as one of them takes a swing at the jet with its cudgel of an arm, the jet dodges, goes higher, but not fast enough and the giant clips it, and it spins. The bay is open and she can see Steve tumble out, falling to earth.

 

* * *

 

Jane is close to fully dilated.

Natasha is supportive and makes comments about this being a happy thing that Jane cannot reconcile with the fact that these words are coming out of Natasha’s mouth.

“There is not enough happiness in our lives, you should cherish this moment, despite the pain.”

Bruce tells Jane she’s almost there.

 

* * *

 

Iron Man flies out of the back of the jet, catches Steve by the ankle and tosses him toward the nearest giant; Steve flips in the air and lands on its chest feet first, forcing it to the ground. Iron Man lands next to him and fires into the giant’s face and it melts like ice in summer.

Darcy can smell it again, metal and blood and salt and dirt and now she knows what it is, it is the smell of battle. The air around her snap freezes and she can feel the cold on her tongue as the frost giants scatter, finding defensible positions, as though they’re trying to hold the quad, as though they’re waiting for something.

Thor flies out of the Quinjet as it speeds off in the direction of the Tower, and Darcy hopes that Jane is safe and protected. Not wanting to think of the political implications of the death of Asgard’s potential heir happening on Earth, Darcy turns her attention to the team and the fight.

 

 * * *

 

Iron Man speaks to Thor though the small device in his ear, “What are the Jotun doing here?”

Thor lets his hammer pull him into the nearest giant, he laughs and grins and Tony gets the distinct impression that Thor enjoys this more than he should.

The giant falls and Thor looks up to where Iron Man fights nearby, “I believe they are here for the same reasons we are, they track the Valkyrie.”

Iron Man nods brusquely, and fires the repulsor rays into the giant’s face, flies around the back while it is blinded and lands on its back electropunching it where the spine and neck meet. There is a pop and a crack and the giant goes down, its neck broken. Tony glances around; it takes longer than he expected to drop a giant, and suddenly he’s worried

“Why would the Jotun want the Valkyrie?”

“It is possible they wish to court her.” Thor says, his hammer crashing into the belly of a giant sending it flying.

“What?” Steve’s voice is riddled with disbelief.

“Offer her the Queenship of Jotunhiem.”

“What?” Tony’s voice is as well.

“They are without a king, thanks to Loki, and they harbor great hatred toward Asgard. With the leadership of a Valkyrie _not_ of Asgard, they would be able to challenge my father on a more level field.”

Iron Man began to ask what a Valkyrie had to do with a level playing field when their conversation drops away, forgotten, because Steve can see Darcy, and at that point there is nothing else that could possibly matter.

 

* * *

 

Darcy can see him, Steve; his face is grim, solemn, and she realizes for the first time that this isn’t really Steve, this is Captain America.

He turns and he sees her, his eyes refocus, recognition and relief fill his face and he runs towards her; and that is when she knows. He’s come for her, in the most old-fashioned stupidly romantic gesture ever, Steve has come to make sure she is okay.

She watched as the largest of the frost giants came at him; Steve’s jaw clenches and his shield comes up and Darcy hadn’t known he could jump that high. Or kick that hard.

She watches as he runs toward a giant and pushes off the ground the way she pushed off the bottom of the pool as a child, and he goes flying, shield into the neck of the giant, she watches as he stands on the giant’s chest as it falls to the ground, watches him pull the shield out of its neck slick with blue blood, watches him run toward her, watches as the giant on the ground raises its arm; its terrible ice bound arm, and swings it, reaching for Steve.

She watches, screams, runs, as clear blue ice in perfect spires sprouts from his chest, his mouth open in a silent scream, eyes widened with shock, disbelief; before the ice melts away and he collapses on the ground.

 

* * *

 

Bruce looked up at her, his eyes calm, his voice steady, “Jane, it’s time to push.”

 

* * *

 

Darcy could feel Thor land beside her.

Could hear him say something about getting her away.

About Jane never forgiving him.

She didn’t care.

He grabbed her arm. She pushed him away and ran.

She dodged students and ice blocks and patches of snow to come skidding to a halt kneeling in the mud before Steve. The blood pooled around him, staining the snow and grass, and she touched the skin of his face and neck, trying to get him to focus, to speak, but it is too late, and Steve is long gone.

She screams at him, screams his name, screams that it’s not his turn, it’s not fair, it’s not his turn.

She is crying and frantic and not at all paying attention to her surroundings.

And then she is hit in the chest, the force levering her from the ground like a nine iron and a golf ball.

She can feel her ribs crack, and as Steve’s body gets further away she wondered if this is what flying actually felt like. Then she hit the pavement, and she knows she should hurt, she should be screaming in pain, but all she can do is cry. Steve is gone, he’s gone but he shouldn’t be, it’s not his turn.

There is a gentle tug on the back of her neck and suddenly Darcy is floating. She can see Thor trying to get to her, Tony flies to her, and it occurs to her that they are only trying to get to her body, that she is not her body, she is so much more than that.

She floats further and further away, watching as Tony and Thor fight the remaining giants; and then, in the distance of the real world she watches her body grow ever more still, and die.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. There is more. I promise.   
> No. I'm not going to tell you what happens or who the Valkyrie is, you'll have to wait and see.  
> If you feel the need I'm inkandash on tumblr, and my ask box is always open.


	7. Dark as Crow’s wings,

  
  
  
Even here He could feel it

The ripple of His error

And it burned him intimately.

 

 

His voice is deep, resonating in her bones, “Þrúðr. You are late.”

She does not look at him, “I was waylaid,” she mutters.

He gazes into the abyss, to where only he can see, “If you could, would you go back?” he asks her.

“Yes,” She says without pause.

“Why? Why when you can be here, with those who have waited for you?”

She flexes her wings in agitation, the darkness they bring with them fills the room for a moment and then subsides; she purses her lips and looks sidelong at Heimdall and she can see he already knows her answer.

“You would return for him?” he asks, his voice resonating in her bones.

She faces him, catching his golden eyes with her black ones, “I would.” and her voice is sharp as her blade.

“Why?”

The question is a challenge and she knows it, but she answers with the truth, and a challenge of her own, “To avenge him.”

 

* * *

 

Mjölnir makes a particular sound as it slices through the air, a song that mortals cannot hear, a song with which the Jötunn are infinitely familiar.

Tony blasts the last giant between himself and Darcy, only to have Thor grab him by the shoulder. He turns to say something but Thor is concentrating on something else, as are the Jötunn.

“Jarvis, what are they hearing.”

“It appears to be a supersonic frequency emanating from the north east, sir, whatever is creating it is approaching at remarkable speed.”

Tony looks north east and he can see it, a dark spot against the sky growing ever larger.

Thor tilts his head and listens; the sound is wrong, and Mjölnir is in his hand. It strikes him that there are a very limited number of items with the ability to sing Mjölnir’s song, and only one is unaccounted for; he turns to the sound and he can see it, the blade of a Valkyrie, flying toward them.

The frost giants can hear it too, and they turn, looking to the incoming sword, waiting.

Tony feels himself pulled toward Thor, away from the potential landing zone of the sword.

As he lets himself be pulled away Tony watches as a storm darkens the sky, black lightning strikes the ground of the quad. The Jötunn wait, watch, and do not flinch.

Thor remembers New Mexico; he remembers the narrow place between life and death, and his hand itches against Mjölnir’s handle.

The sword whistles, its song a crescendo of darkness and death.

And then, too fast to really be real, Darcy’s hand comes up and catches the sword of the Valkyrie.

 

* * *

 

Jane screams.

And a baby cries.

And Natasha is telling her how good she did.

 

* * *

 

She rises from the pavement, pulled by the sword; she hovers inches above the ground as though hooked there by an invisible force. The blood of the battlefield begins to flow to her, pooling just before her feet. There is a moment where they can see Darcy suspended above a pool of black blood, mirrored in its dark surface.

And then the blood surges, rising, latching onto her feet and legs, flowing like tiny rivers up her body; fanning out, linking and darkening, drying and hardening into highly polished black armor. The pointed scales that surround her neck and the upper swell of her breast shine despite their darkness. Her arms are bare except for black gauntlets and thin crisscrossed straps that wind up them to her shoulders. Her torso is bound in black leather, studded with more black scale mail. Her legs are patterned with more black straps, more scale mail drips down like tears forming long narrow strips of a mail skirt. Her head comes up and her eyes are visible for the first time, but they are no longer the blue that her friends know so well, they are black and wide and unseeing.

The last of the blood rushes to her back, blowing out behind her like a wound, and then it too changes, shapes itself, and forms enormous black wings.

 

* * *

 

The lightning stops, storm vanishing from the sky as though it had never been there, clouds blowing out in a spiral, golden sunlight streaming down on her shoulders and wings, setting her aglow.

“What is that?” Tony gasps.

“That, my friend, is something that has not been seen for millennia.” Thor whispers, “It is the birth of a Valkyrie.”

She lands on her bare feet; the pool of blood is gone, absorbed by her armor. Her sword is ready, its razor edge glittering in the sunlight. Wings dark as pitch fold against her back, and from where Tony and Thor stand they could be a black cape. She turns to the Jötunn, her smile an unspoken challenge to all who would oppose her and she waits for them to speak.

Tony starts for her when the leader of the Jötunn addresses not-Darcy, but Thor stops him, “We have no place in this.”

“Why have you come to this place?” Her voice is dark, filled with the sound of crow’s wings and open plains, it sounds nothing like Darcy.

“We would make you our Queen.” The Jötunn’s voice is cold and hard, harsh to human ears, and it grates on Tony’s nerves, “You would be general to our armies. Ruler of the eternal battlefield we would create for you. We would be yours.”

The Jötunn drop to their knees, and Tony can feel Thor tense beside him, he knows what it in Thor’s mind for it is in his own mind. If she accepts, the Valkyrie in Darcy’s body, if she becomes Queen of the Jötunn, they will have to kill her.

 

 

* * *

 

She is angry, but why she is angry is distant, lost in the human part of her mind. She cringes as she tries to remember, but the pain of death is between her and her memories and she cannot reach them.

The Jötunn kneel before her, and her hand flexes on her blade, their offer is good, war is good, and eternal battlefield they promise her is the best of all.

She casts her gaze around them, she sees the fallen Jötunn, she sees a man of Asgard, a man covered in metal, and . . .

And in one moment more painful than any other she remembers, all at once.

Steve.

And she remembers . . .

The way he smiled.

The way he laughed.

His eyes when he was drawing, that focused far-away sense that he saw so much more than anyone else.

His hands and the way they flexed when he picked things up; waved hello, said good bye.

The one million insignificant things that she would watch him do every single day.

Chocolate milk. Sharpened pencils. Clean erasers and an open chair.

All the things she made sure were in the lab for him that she would never have to remember again.

And Darcy gasped.

She could feel that she wasn’t alone in her head, but that other presence, that knowing, that had always been there hadn’t it? And like sinking into a swimming pool during the hot summer she let the other that shared her headspace wash over her, sink into her and absorb.

When she opened her eyes they were blue again, bright knowing blue ringed in black, and she was whole. For the first time in her memory, she was complete.

And Þrúðr smiled, she had been alone so long, lost and ignored, trapped in this mortal shell. But now, now they were awake, now they were one; equal and powerful.

Things began clicking into place for both of them, events that had never been important, thoughts that hadn’t seemed like Darcy, feelings that hadn’t been Þrúðr’s; it all made sense.

Her hand tightened on her sword as she turned to face the waiting Jötunn, so willing to make her their Queen.

_Let them taste a Queen’s wrath._

She leveled her sword at the throat of their leader, the one who spoke and offered her their world after taking all that mattered from hers.

“Did you think I would join you?” asked Þrúðr.

“Did you think I would side with you after you killed someone I love?” demanded Darcy.

And like a blow it struck her.

She had never said it aloud, and now he was gone, and would never know.

She loved Steve.

He was a warrior and a friend and she _loved_ him.

And it swelled in her, the anger of his loss.

As though she’d never been really or truly angry before.

The Jötunn leader’s blue lips curled back in a smirk full of contempt for Steve, “He was but a mortal, as Queen you would have your choice of the finest warriors of the Jötunn. Warriors more worthy of the heart of a Valkyrie.”

Þrúðr dropped the tip of the sword, watching as the Jötunn’s eyes lit with pride, watching as his smile grew, and then, with all the strength afforded a Valkyrie, she cut his smile in half.

Darcy watched as the Jötunn’s head slid from his jaw, landing wetly on the ground. Þrúðr posed a query, _would they kill them all or let some return to Jötunnhiem to sing of their failure._

Darcy’s face was solemn, _kill them all_ , she responded _, there are plenty more who can sing_.  

 

* * *

 

Tony and Thor watch. It is not a long fight.

Tony remarks that it is convenient that frost giants melt when slain.

Thor nods and notes that she is far more adept with a blade than himself, and wonders aloud how she would fair against Lady Sif.

 

* * *

 

She turns to the last of them, sword dripping with Jötunn blood, he cries out for his mother and she stops. Seeing him for the first time, he is little more than a child. She feels no remorse as she raises her blade, ready to cut and slice and leave him bleeding until he dies.

But then he cries out another name, her name, Þrúðr.

He begs, pleads in as much of the Asgard language as he knows.

 _Let him sing_ , Darcy thinks, _but cut him so he remembers._

And Þrúðr lets her blade fall gently across his chest, watches as a thin well of blood rises, then spills.

“The Earth is mine.” She hisses in Jötunn, “Tell your brethren that if they wish to have any hope of an honorable death they will never return.”

She watches him leave, surrounded in white blue light and Darcy stands alone on the battle field. Puddles of ice and Jötunn blood surround her.

She ignores Iron Man and Thor, there is time for them later. She walks to Steve, kneels by him, heart breaking as she plucks at the sleeve of his uniform.

He can't die, it’s not his turn.

_I can do this._

Not his turn.

_I can bring him back_

Not his turn.

_He is worthy._

Not his turn.

_A great warrior taken long before his time._

Not his turn.

_I will bring him back._

She kneels beside him, her mind going places only she can see, the lights in the darkness.

Her forehead drops to his, “It’s not your turn.” She whispers, tears falling from her eyes onto his.

_I love you._

Pulling away she can see his chest rise and fall.

His cheeks flush.

And his blue eyes open.

 

* * *

 

And Bruce is telling her that the baby is healthy.

But Natasha can feel the wrongness.

And then Jane screams.

And Hulk roars.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note, Þrúðr is pronounced “Thrud”.
> 
> Please keep comments section free of spoilers. If I feel your comment is a spoiler, I'll delete it. Fair warning.
> 
> If you want to chat or speculate, hit up my askbox on tumblr.
> 
> inkandash


	8. And the light is lost.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is fighting and violence, depression, talking about death and dying, and a mild case of the abduction. If that bothers you or, heaven forbid, triggers you, I would just skip this round.  
> I do promise this gets resolved. Don't fret.

 

 

 

This has taken everything

This final Trick.

And for naught.

 

 

Darcy knelt over Steve, black wings unfurled and extended, tips raised skyward.

Tony watched, held his breath; waited as Steve’s hand reached up, his fingers brushing Darcy’s hair.

Next to him Thor gave a heavy sigh of relief.

The crackle of the radio sounded in Tony’s ear, shattering the beauty of the moment.

Natasha was on the com, her voice strained and weak, “We have a situation.”

 

* * *

 

The world came into focus, bright and white, and over him was Darcy.

Beautiful, perfect Darcy.

She was with him.

Which could only mean she was dead too.

Which could only mean he had failed.

His head fell back, into a sudden gust of wind, looking to his left he could see wings; huge, black wings, holding them aloft, coming out of Darcy’s back.

They were flying.

_Darcy_ was flying.

He looked back at her face to see her smiling down at him, that special smile she got when she was really and truly happy, the one he had wanted for so long be the cause of and now; now he never would.

“Why Darcy?” he choked out, his voice raw.

“What?” she sounded confused.

He coughed hard before looking up at her again.

“Why are you Darcy?”

“Who else would I be?” the Angel of Death responded.

Steve closed his eyes; he supposed the Angel had a point, after all, appearing as someone he knew probably made the transition easier.

He had just never thought dying would be this hard. He’d thought after being in the ice for 70 years if he ever died it would be like going home, there was nothing in the future for him. But that was before the Avengers.

That was before Darcy.

Now he didn’t feel like he was going home, now he felt like he was abandoning it; his home was on the battlefield somewhere so far away.

Because if home is where the heart is, his home is Darcy.

And now, leaving earth in the arms of the Angel of Death it hit him, how very much he had come to love Darcy.

Little things, like that one curl of hair she was always pushing behind her ear, or the way she bit her pencil when she was thinking, or the way her whole face lit up when someone other than himself walked into the room.

Big things, like how she was smarter than anyone knew; that she could multitask better than anyone, even Pepper, how she was funny and kind and everything anyone could ever want in a friend, how she was fiercely loyal and witty to a fault.

And if he hadn’t been so damn stupid he would have told her, he would have told her everything.

But it was too late for all that. Death, real death, was final.

“I'm so sorry.” He murmured, eyes closed, letting himself fade into nothing.

 

* * *

 

Darcy flew into the building through the Hulk sized hole in the wall, the lights flickered overhead, never really on but never really off. She navigated the floor to what had been designated as a waiting room, Steve still in her arms, his head in the hollow of her neck.

It would have been comical, this enormous man curled in her arms like a child, but all it was right now was sad.

Darcy placed Steve on the couch; it was the only thing in the room close to large enough to hold him. Placing one hand on his cheek, she turned his face to her; his eyes fluttered open and he looked at her, sadder than she’d ever seen him.

“Are you leaving now?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be right back.”

He shook his head against the pillow, “You don’t need to do that.” his hand drifted up and gripped hers, “Tell her I’m sorry I failed.”

Darcy pulled her hand away, fighting not to let the heartbreak show; clearly he was still in the past. Probably still thought he was frozen or fighting Nazis or something. And if that was the case then ‘ _her_ ’ was probably Peggy.

Darcy sighed and bit her lip, now really wasn’t the time to get jealous of Steve’s dead girlfriend.  She reminded herself that there were still things to take care of and she left him to his memories and went in the direction of Jane’s room.

She skidded to a halt when she saw Natasha curled in the corner, hands clutching her belly, and an ever growing pool of blood surrounding her.

 

* * *

 

Tony found Bruce in the Adirondacks.

He was Bruce again, not the Hulk, and Tony thanked all the gods he didn’t believe in that Bruce had insisted on a subcutaneous tracker.

He landed, flipped up the faceplate, and grabbed Bruce’s arm, “Let’s go.”

Bruce pulled his arm out of Tony’s grasp, his wordless ‘No’ loud enough to make Tony flinch.

“We need you to come back.” Tony said, because it was true.

Bruce shook his head, “I don’t belong there.” He looked around him, “I belong somewhere like here. Somewhere that I can’t hurt anyone.”

“You’re always going to be in danger of hurting someone Bruce.”

“ _NOT LIKE THIS._ ”The hulk within him roared and Tony took a step back, “ _YOU DON’T KNOW. YOU WEREN’T THERE._ ”

Bruce fought for control, falling to the ground, curling against it and Tony winced at the noises that escaped from his tense form. He stood and watched Bruce’s internal struggle, fighing the urge to get involved, or to run away entirely.

Bruce’s fist made contact with the ground and the ground gave way.

Tony waited, watched, held his breath; Bruce suddenly relaxed, collapsed onto the ground, rolled to his back, eyes skyward and haunted; but brown.

Tony reached out an armored hand to help him up, “You’re right, I wasn’t there, and I don’t know; but right now we need you to come back.”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t need me, I’m a hazard.”

“Be that as it may, I do need _you_.” He paused, and then continued, “Actually, Steve needs you.”

“What?” Bruce’s eyes narrowed and he took Tony’s hand, “What happened to Steve?”

“Nope, not going to tell you. You have to come back and find out for yourself.” Tony smirked.

Bruce scowled.

“If you expect me to go back to _that_ then you need to tell me _why_.”

“They need a doctor, and I’m not letting anyone else near them. Not right now.”

“Them?” Bruce tensed but Tony didn’t notice, “Who is ‘them’?”

“Steve and Darcy.” Tony turned to look at him, eyes narrow behind his mask, “Why?”

Bruce’s fist clenched and this time Tony saw it, “Why?” He demanded, and Bruce shook his head.

Tony waited him out.

“I don’t remember, I never remember, I just see flashes.”

“And?”

Bruce’s jaw flexed and his mouth tightened as he looked back at Tony, “There’s blood, and screaming, and Natasha.”

 

* * *

 

Jane was crying.

Thor was in a rage.

The sky above the tower swirled and darkened, rain began to fall, and lightning struck.

 

* * *

 

Darcy ran to Jane’s room, but stopped when she saw Natasha on the floor, bleeding, clutching her belly.

“Darcy,” she gasped and Darcy knelt beside her, pulling back Nat’s hand she could see the cut was clean, but went through to her body cavity. Holding back the urge to vomit, which would do no one any good, Darcy place her hands over Natasha’s.

“You fought well.” She whispered, gripping Natasha’s hands.

Natasha shook her head, grinding it into the floor, “He took her.” She gasped, “I failed.”

 “You didn’t fail.” She looked into Nat’s eyes and held them, letting herself fall into them, sifting through everything until she found was she was looking for, a red light, deep in the back of Natasha’s mind; Darcy’s eyes slid closed and she concentrated on the light.

Natasha screamed.

Darcy’s hands burned, from a hot cold that she could never quite describe. She focused, let the power flow through her fingertips; let it knit back together flesh and muscle.

And then the screaming stopped and Darcy pulled her hands away from Natasha’s ruined suit; soft new skin where the gash had been.

“How did you do that?” Natasha demanded, looking for the first time at what Darcy had become, “What happened to you?”  
  
“I’m the Valkyrie.”

Natasha nodded, nonplussed, “Well that’s convenient.” She put one hand on Darcy’s arm as she rasped, “You need to find Clint.” and pushed her into the hall.

 

* * *

 

The lights flickered around him and Clint was lost again, trapped in his own body.

Something was coming towards him; wearing blood black armor with dark wings fanned out behind and above it and in that moment Clint knew death had come for him.

And he had never welcomed it so much.

 

* * *

 

Tony touched down just inside the rather large hole in his wall, his face plate flipped up and he looked pointedly at Bruce, “You’re paying for that.”

Bruce shrugged, too distracted by the flickering lights and the smell of blood to care about a hole in the wall.

They spotted Natasha at the same time, coming towards them; Tony gasped at the state she was in, Bruce sighed in relief that it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

She stumbled and Bruce caught her, fear in every line of his face, his hand on the smooth new skin of her belly. He looked down, seeing the tear in her suit for the first time, “How?” was all he could choke out.

“Darcy, she . . .” And she stopped, at a loss for how to describe what happened.

“Darcy’s the Valkyrie.” Tony said, and Bruce turned to him, frustrated.

“You didn’t think you should tell me?”

“It wasn’t really important at the time.”

 

* * *

 

Darcy knelt over Clint, he looked up at her, his eyes empty and unfocused, “’m I dead?”

“No.” she said, checking him for broken bones and open wounds.

“Damn.” He replied, taking in the wings, the armor and the sword strapped to her back, “The fuck happened to you?”

Darcy shook her head, “Lots. What about you?”

He shook his head again, harder this time, “I’m not . . . I don’t . . .” Darcy’s fingers found a three inch cut in his back, it was deep and bleeding.

She reached her power into him, thankful it wasn’t his turn, startled when he pushed her away. His red rimmed eyes met hers, “Tasha, find Tasha.”

Darcy shook her head, “She’s fine. She sent me to find you.”

Clint’s eyes narrowed and he grabbed for her, “Don’t lie to me.” He cut his hand on the scales at her throat. He clutched his hand to his chest and looked up at her with a flicker of fear in his eyes, “What-”

She cut him off with her fingers in his back. The wound was narrower than Natasha’s but deeper, all the way to his kidney, severing nerves and blood vessels, and Darcy tried not to think about how much time he actually had.

She focused on the wound, on the red light; blocking out Clint’s involuntary scream, as she knit him back together.

Clint groaned and slid down the wall onto the floor. Darcy stood; unconcerned, sleeping seemed normal in this situation. If anything about it could be considered normal.

As she turned to get to Jane, she saw Tony and Bruce supporting Natasha between them coming towards her.

 

* * *

 

It had been the scream that had lead them to where Darcy and Clint were huddled in the hallway.

Bruce had seen a lot in his time, in the world and with the Avengers, but nothing like this.

She stood over Clint as he slid to the floor, all wings and armor and darkness, his blood dripping from her fingers and for a brief moment Bruce thought she'd killed him. He shook himself, powered or not this was _Darcy_ , she wouldn’t do something like that.

Tony seemed unfazed and he walked over to Darcy as though finding her like this was the most natural thing. And perhaps now it was.

“You might want to power down. You’re going to freak people out, and doorways are _not_ going to be easy with those wings.” Tony said.

Bruce was inclined to agree with him, and he opened his mouth to say so when Thor walked out of Jane’s room.

Bruce took one look and shut his mouth again.

 

* * *

 

Darcy felt a shadow fall over her. She turned to see Thor carrying Jane much as she had carried Steve.

“Nay my friend,” Thor said quietly, “keep you powers active, we have further need of them.”  
  
“What-” she began as she looked at Jane curled into Thor, body wracked with sorrow; and Darcy noticed something was missing.

She went cold, then hot with battle fire and righteous anger, “Where’s the baby?”

Jane wailed in response, the thin high-pitched sound of someone who has given up all hope.

“She has been taken.” Thor rumbled, tightening his arms around Jane.

Darcy wanted to scream, demand to know who would _dare_ to take their baby, and then it clicked.

She looked into Thor’s eyes, seeing the answer to her unspoken question.

Darcy nodded once, tersely; knowing without asking that they were leaving and where they were going.

Home.

To Asgard.

And Loki.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep comments section free of spoilers. If I feel your comment is a spoiler, I'll delete it. Fair warning.  
> If you want to chat or speculate, hit up my askbox on tumblr.  
> inkandash
> 
> This is what I was listening to for the various 'narrators':  
> Steve: Winter in my Heart, VAST  
> Darcy: Beautiful, Obsidia feat CoMa  
> Bruce: 400 Slag, Kent


	9. Before the darkness falls,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GAH, ok guys, hope you like it . . .

 

 

 

His howling cry filled the room

Echoed down the halls

There was no question of His guilt

 

 

Darcy let herself fall into the easy rhythm of the horse’s gait, thinking to the hurried conversation she’d had with Bruce before they’d left.

“ _I don’t think he knows where he is_ ,” she’d said, “ _He kept talking about me like I wasn’t there, asking if I was dead or not. I’m worried about him_.”

Bruce had clasped her on the shoulder, “ _You just brought him back from the dead. He’s liable to be confused for a while_.”

“ _I don’t want to be gone when he comes to, I just_ . . .”

“ _You need to go to Asgard. Steve will understand_.”

Darcy had nodded, “ _Tell him I’m okay, and I’ll be back as soon as I can_.”

Now they were riding hard towards the mountain, Darcy had suggested flight, it was faster, and wasn’t speed important?

Thor had said ‘No’ because “The people of Asgard should not know something is amiss in the court. It would worry them.”

Darcy privately thought that was bullshit, but she wasn’t from Asgard, not really, and her opinions amounted to precisely jack.

Upon entering the throne room Darcy was struck by its vastness, gold and green and beautiful and hollow. Full of nobles and the Asgard court, and yet still empty.

An old man sat on the throne, his left eye hidden by a golden patch, _Odin_ , she thought to herself, beside him was a woman, tall and beautiful, _Frigga_ ; and she thinks she knows them. Maybe it is the knowledge of the Valkyrie, or her nights spent with the children’s book, but it feels like more than that.

Odin rises to meet his son as Frigga rushes past him to Jane, who she clutches to her like a child; and Jane cries.

Darcy shifts her feet, uncomfortable and out of place, she can hear murmuring and realizes she is not powered down, she has entered the throne room of Asgard as a fully realized Valkyrie; and for a moment she is worried that she has done something wrong.

Thor begins to demand to be taken to Loki, to know where Loki is hiding, to know how he got to earth, to his wife, to his child.

Odin nods, and simply tells him that there is time for that; and he walks up to and around Darcy, as though checking to see if she is up to snuff.

Darcy’s wings flex involuntarily and she stands a little taller, as he finishes his circuit she glares at him in his good eye; inexplicably he smiles, nods, and looks meaningfully at his wife.

Frigga still holds Jane, and Jane still cries, but she looks at Odin with an expression of relief, and Darcy finds herself undone in her anger.

She wants to scream, to shake Odin until he tells what he so clearly knows, but she grits her teeth and stays as she is; reminding herself that this is not her place.

She is relieved then that Thor shares her anger. She watches, vindicated, as Thor grips his father’s bicep and holds him in place, “I would know why my child was taken and my wife suffers. I would know why you insist on keeping my brother from me.”

Frigga looks up and meets his eyes, and Darcy can see a distance in them like a hall of mirrors, “What’s done is done and nothing shall undo it.”

And Darcy can hear the echo of time in Frigga’s voice and knows that what she says is truth, and her heart breaks for her friends.

Thor turns on Frigga and demands to know what his mother knows, but she is silent, as is her nature. Jane is too far gone into her own mind to hear what they’re talking about, and Darcy is glad of it.

Thor turns on his father again, every inch the angry bilgesnipe, and his voice raises and booms, the room crackles with little bolts of lightning and Darcy is ready to break them up when Odin cuts Thor off and the room goes silent.

The only sound is Jane’s wailing heartbreak and Thor’s gasping _what_?

Odin repeats himself, and the whole of Asgard listens;

“I said, ‘do you not recognize your daughter even as she stands before you?’”

And Jane’s head lifts.

And Thor turns.

And everyone’s looking at Darcy.

And Darcy gasps out the only words she remembers knowing.

“Wait, what?”

 

* * *

 

Steve didn’t know what he’d thought the afterlife would be like, but this was certainly not it.

The room was bright at first, and as he eyes became accustomed to the light he picked out the coffee machine and the surroundings of the waiting room in the tower. He wondered why he was here, and he wondered if maybe it was some kind of waiting room for judgment.

But he could hear Bruce talking, and why would Bruce be here?

He looked in the direction of the voice, there was Bruce talking in hushed tones to Tony, and both looked worse for wear.

“He’s up,” Tony said, nodding in Steve’s direction.

Bruce turned and walked to him, “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been skewered.”

Steve sat up stiffly, and Tony joined Bruce, “Well, you’re not wrong.” He said with a smirk.

Steve’s eyes narrowed and he sifted through his thoughts.

He remembered Darcy.

And pain.

And light.

And the Angel of Death.

Who looked inexplicably like Darcy.

He looked up at Bruce and Tony, “I’m not dead am I?” he asked wryly.

Tony laughed.

Bruce shook his head.

And all Steve could say was, “shit.”

 

* * *

 

Darcy looked around the room, from face to face, unbelieving.

“How? That’s not possible! Time travel is not a thing.” She said with a fake laugh, as though this would all become a joke, but it wasn’t and the laugh died.

“And you know this because?” Frigga’s smile was kind, and encouraging, and Darcy found herself wondering about the truth of everything she had ever been taught.

“Because . . . because it isn’t possible,” she repeated, less sure, and looked desperately at Thor and Jane.

“The first time your Midgardian scientists attempted to awaken the cube it created a tear, a small overlooked tear, in time and space,” Odin said, with a kind of dispassionate tone that reminded Darcy of when the vet told her that her horse had broken its leg and had to be put down. “Loki found this tear, studied it,” he continued, “and when the time was right he used it to send you back through time.”

“Truly?” Thor gasped, his voice hopeful, as looked at his mother, and something passed between them much like her conversation with Odin.

He turned back to look at Darcy, tears in his eyes. She sucked in a breath, not sure how to react, not sure what this means; and then before she can let the breath out she is in Thor’s arms.

“That’s insane . . .” Jane whispers, but her eyes are lit with hope for the first time and she’s left Frigga’s arms.

Suddenly Thor reaches out and pulls Jane to them, and it feels right and good and perfect and Darcy feels at home for the first time since she’s left Iowa.

Jane cups her face and she smiles, tears running down her cheeks, “My tadpole!”

“Ah! No! You can’t call me that!”

“You seemed to like it just fine this morning!”

“That was before I knew it was _me_ in there!”

Jane shook her head, “Nope. That’s your new name.”

Darcy groaned and Jane got sad again.

“What?” Darcy asked, concerned.

“I never got to see your first steps, your first words-”

“Hey, I have video of all of that.” Jane shook her head, but Darcy kept going, “You also never have to change my diapers. I’m really okay with that.”

Jane turned to Frigga, “I don’t understand. Why did you let this happen? You could have stopped it.”

Darcy could see Jane working herself up, and as she thought about it her life clicked into place, the last few years in stark resolution, “Hey," she said cutting Jane off and forcing her to look Darcy in the eyes, "If Loki hadn’t sent me back, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You would be! You would be in my arms.” And Jane’s voice wavered, tears threatening to fall again.

And Darcy found her own voice quake and she did her best to hold her emotions in check, “I would never have seen the lights Jane.”

“What?” Jane asked, confused.

“The sky in the desert, I never would have seen the lights. Or tased Thor. Or noticed that he was in the photos. We would never have made it to the hospital in time. I wouldn’t be able to hack the DMV and give Thor a fake license. If I never got sent back you never would have met Thor. Jane, if I never got sent back, _I would not exist right now._ ”

Jane gasped, Thor held her close, and Odin looked at Darcy with a knowing smile, “I see you take after your grandmother.” He said, and Darcy refused to think of the implications of that.

Thor pulled her to him again, kissing the top of her head, he calling her his tadpole and she finds that it doesn’t bother her as much as she thought it would.

 

* * *

 

Tony has left to talk to Pepper, to check on Nat and Clint, and to call Erik.

He leaves Steve with Bruce.

And there are blood draws and tests and a distinct avoidance of any kind of discussion about what’s happened to him.

And then suddenly Bruce says, “You should tell her.”

“What?”

“You should tell her. Everyone knows.” Bruce’s mouth quirked in a small smile, “I think the two of you are the only people who haven’t figured it out.”

“The two of us?” And Steve wonders if she likes him back, if they’ve been dancing around each other all this time and for no reason. And he asks as much.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and he shook his head, “I’m not saying anything. Other than that you need to tell her,” he paused and tilted his head from side to side, thinking, “sooner rather than later.”

Steve looked at him levelly, and Bruce shrugged, and said nothing else on the matter.

 

* * *

 

The feasting and celebration lasts for a week.

She is presented to the peoples of Asgard as Þrúðr Þórrdóttir and a Valkyrie. It is not what anyone had expected; but Asgard is used to such strangeness and the fact that Darcy is Thor’s daughter is quickly embraced. They are hesitant to accept Jane, but by week’s end most have been charmed by her intellect, humor, and person that they no longer care that she is of Midgard and mortal.

Lady Sif and the Warriors Three are among the first to greet her, having only vaguely met her in New Mexico.

Fandral blushes lightly and bows with a flourish, kissing her hand as he once did in the desert. He looks from her eyes to the distance over her shoulder and back again, releasing her hand and welcoming her home, his voice suddenly stiff and formal.

Darcy hazards a glance over her shoulder, but it is only Thor, waiving and grinning like an idiot, and she’s certain he’s warned Fandral off. Not that it matters.

Hogun is, in comparison to the others, quiet and reserved; but he offers to spar with her and she grins like an idiot.

Volstagg, who will only answer to Fǫðurbróðir, questions her intently about pancakes and coffee and the “miracle of bacon” and wonders if she would be so kind as to instruct the cooks on how to “make such wonderment in Asgard.”  

Darcy meets the other Valkyrie and realizes that her past life as an only child is long over. She has fifteen sisters, each of them as different and strangely familiar as the next.

They accept her, curious and inquisitive, drinking in her stories of Midgard, the romance of Jane and Thor, her own life; Darcy tells them everything, leaving out only what she tells herself isn’t important.

Because Steve is still so in love with Peggy that she was all he could think about as he died and no matter what she thought when she saw him on the battlefield, it just wasn’t going to happen.

There was no winning in a competition with a memory.

Darcy keeps Steve close to her heart, until the day Geirahöd asks how she became Valkyrie. She shifts around the question, makes references to the Jötunn and the attack at Columbia, says nothing of Steve.

But Randgríðr looks at her and simply says, “What is his name?”

And the fourteen other Valkyrie look at her expectantly.

Darcy shakes her head and mutters ‘Steve’, and it’s like they’ve all always known each other because there’s a chorus of ‘aww’s and ‘It’ll work out’s and no one says a thing about it after that. In her heart she wants to explain, wants to tell them why it won’t work, why it couldn’t; but part of her still hopes they’re right, and that it will work out.

And she’s not ready to give up that hope yet.

As the celebration winds down the Valkyrie leave to their duties, the court disperses, Sif and the warriors three say their good byes, and Darcy contemplates home.

 

* * *

 

Steve goes through fifteen heavy bags, two five dozen flats of eggs, six gallons of chocolate milk, eight loaves of bread, four pounds of cheese, a walk-in of vegetables, a series of steak and poultry and fish that makes even Tony blanch, twelve large paper cups of strong black coffee and one box of donuts.

Bruce says it’s his body recovering from being dead.

His metabolism is making up for lost time.  

Steve thinks Bruce might be right.

Steve also thinks if Bruce would just fucking _tell him_ if Darcy likes him or not his nerves would be a lot less frayed and he wouldn’t have also gone through three hundred hot wings, sixteen large pizzas, ten cheeseburgers, a keg of beer and one strawberry milk shake.

 

* * *

 

They leave from the throne room for Midgard, saying their goodbyes.

Odin on his throne, Frigga at his right hand, and he addresses Darcy as Þrúðr Þórrdóttir and offers her a place among the Valkyrie of Asgard. She declines, says she is of Midgard; it is where she was raised and where she belongs. And she wishes to protect it.

“You just want to go back for Steve.” Jane says, and Darcy blushes, shaking her head.

“Dude shut up.” Darcy says out of the corner of her mouth, not really wanting to have this discussion in the middle of the throne room.

“What is this?” Thor booms

“Who is Steve?” asks Odin and Darcy is wondering if the floor will take pity on her and swallow her whole.

“Steve is a fellow warrior,” Thor says to his father and Darcy thinks, not for the first time, that his voice is more suited to the golden rooms of Asgard than anywhere else. He turns to face her and continues, “But I knew not that you had such feelings for him.”

Darcy whirls on Jane, “Thanks _mom_. Now dad _and_ grandpa are pissed.”

She can hear an amused snort from Thor and an indignant noise from Odin.

“I am not ‘grandpa’. I am Odin, your king.”

And Darcy snaps her head to glare at Odin, “No you are grandpa, and I’m calling you gramps for short.” She says with a lift of her chin and steel in her voice and Odin frowns. “Hey, you don’t like it; you shouldn’t have left me on Midgard for twenty three years.”

Odin shifts in his seat, looking at her sternly, “If you _must_ call me by a familiar name, then you may call me Afi.”

Darcy agrees with a smile and a hope that Steve has been forgotten.

But no, Odin looks sternly at her and says “The heart of a Valkyrie is not to be bestowed lightly. I would not see harm come to you.”

“I can take care of myself.” She says, trying not to sound as lost as she feels.

Thor’s hand clasps her on the shoulder.

“Indeed she can father.” He agrees with that goofy grin, and now she knows where she got it.

Darcy walks calmly to the throne and kisses Odin on the cheek, “I’ll miss you Afi.” She says.

She does the same to Frigga, but with a hug as well and calls her Amma.

She rejoins her parents and together they take their leave.

Odin watches.

And Frigga smiles.

And Darcy returns to Midgard.

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note:
> 
> Frigg can see the future but tells no one, according to legend, hence her ability to know what has occurred. Odin is omnipotent in his Odinssleep, and this is why he is aware, but not knowing all the details.  
> Þrúðr Þórrdóttir is Thrud Thorsdaughter, and Darcy’s ‘given’ name as it were.  
> Fǫðurbróðir is Uncle  
> Afi is Grandfather  
> Amma is Grandmother  
> Geirahöd and Randgríðr are two of the sixteen Valkyries of Norse legend, the count of sixteen includes Þrúðr.
> 
> My Old Norse is based on the English-Old Norse Dictionary out of Cambridge, Ontario, compiled by Ross G. Arthur and made available by York University. 
> 
> TA DA, yes there is more, one more chapter and an epilogue, but this THIS is the chapter where you get to geek out and tell me you saw it coming, or didn't, but hit me with it! Go all goober. I want ALL the comments.  
> LOVE YOU GUYS, you've all been so patent.


	10. It begins in light and beauty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tiny bit of angst, a whole lot of feels, and some fluff to round it all out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are guys, last actual chapter.   
> Enjoy and thanks for reading!

 

 

His ‘mother’ visits him,

“You did not account for her heart, I think”

“A mistake I shall not repeat”

 

 

 

 

Darcy’s still getting used to this kind of travel; dizzying, bright and full of color.

She’s standing on the roof of Stark Tower with Jane holding her hand and Thor’s arm around her shoulders, just above her wings.

Jarvis greets them, and she didn’t even know there were cameras and speakers up here, but whatever; and then the team bursts through the door to see them.

Natasha is the most observant; she takes two steps towards them before she notices the absence of a child.

“Where is she?” Natasha asks and everyone else sees the missing child as well.

Faces fall. Hearts begin to break.

Darcy says, “Yeah, about that.”

“She is before you here already.” Thor says with a grin; and the team stops, shocked.

Seven eyes turn to look at Darcy as she shifts from one foot to another and Thor tightens his hand around her shoulders.

“Darcy.” Natasha says unbelieving, “Your daughter is Darcy?”

Thor nods and Jane squeezes her hand.

“Well that was unexpected.” And everyone looks at Tony, who shrugs like this isn’t the most bizarre thing he’s ever heard. “I like your wings by the way. Very, um, avian. You don’t carry bird flu do you?”

Darcy glares, but then smiles and shakes her head.

With Tony's blasé acceptance of the impossible the rest of the team accepts it too; and Darcy finds herself surrounded.

Bruce shyly asks if she’s feeling okay and if she wouldn’t mind coming down to the lab so he can take a look at her, maybe run some tests.

Natasha and Clint thank her quietly, but keep their distance and Darcy sees the pale white of new scars on Clint’s hands from where he touched her armor.

Behind them all she can see Steve, eyes wide and staring right at her.

His breathing is rapid she can hear the speed of his heart, and she knows he’s terrified.

Tony says something and she looks away, when she looks back Steve is gone, the door closed behind him.

 

* * *

 

Steve takes the stairs two at a time up to the roof when Jarvis tells him they’ve come back.

He bursts out of the stairwell with the rest of the team, and stops in shock.

He hadn’t considered that seeing her fully powered, seeing her as the Angel of Death again, would affect him as much as it did.

He pulls up short, watching her from just outside the door.

He hears Thor say she’s his daughter.

Sees the look in Jane’s eyes and knows somehow it’s the truth.

Natasha is shocked and Tony is Tony, complementing her wings and Steve feels the world spinning away from him as he withdraws into the building, letting the door swing shut.

 

* * *

 

Nick Fury has had enough of this particular shit. He was supposed to be golfing. And this _bullshit_ has interrupted his day of leisure for the last goddamned time.

“What the fuck going on here?” He bellows, “We get frost giants in Columbia, a renegade Valkyrie, an attack by your little brother here at the tower” he said, jabbing his finger at Thor, “Then the three of you go missing for a week without explanations; what the hell is going on?”

Darcy looks to see him glaring right at her.

“It seems that you have a new Avenger, Director.” Tony says with a smirk and Darcy just _knows_ Tony’s loving this.

Fury’s glare doesn't shift from Darcy, but his mouth deepens into a scowl.

“Turn that shit off and meet me in my office.” He finally says before he turns on his heel and leaves.

Tony’s laughing, Clint and Nat are smirking, and even Bruce is biting back a grin.

But Steve never comes back. And Darcy tells herself that she doesn’t mind.

Thor grips her shoulder and nods.

Darcy powers down, and together they walk to Nick Fury’s office.

 

* * *

 

Death, it seems, is a frigid bitch.

Steve knows this because he’s cold every time he dies.

The first time the cold pressed in on him from the outside slowly sinking into his core.

The second time it burned him from the inside out.

He still didn’t know which was worse.

He wraps his hands in tape and eyes the heavy bag hanging from its hook. Most people meet Death only once, and a week ago he would have been glad never to see Death again.

But now Death came with Darcy, and Steve wasn’t sure yet how he felt about that.

He began to lay into the bag, letting his thoughts filter to the surface, his own favorite version of meditation.

He remembers the cold.

And he remembers light.

And he remembers the sound of her voice.

And he remembers the words she said.

_I love you._

And the bag rips from its hook and hits the wall.

 

* * *

 

Fury glares at her from behind the desk and Darcy wants to tell him he needs lessons from her Afi before he’s going to have any effect on her.

“I suppose welcome is in order.”

Darcy shrugged, “Only if you want to welcome me. I could go around causing trouble if you would rather I did that . . .”

Fury’s face doesn't change, doesn't shift, and for three long minutes he doesn't say anything.

Until, “Welcome to the team.”

Followed closely with, “Don't fuck up.”

And Darcy grinned and looked as falsely surprised as possible, “Who me?”

Fury sighed and shook his head, “Anything else I need to know?”

Darcy looked at Thor with her brows raised as if to say, ‘you handle this one’.

Thor does, saying proudly “The Valkyrie Darcy is my daughter, Þrúðr.”

Fury looks between Darcy and Thor, as though he’s not sure if he should believe them or not.  

He takes a minute, thinking it over, his face never changing, never betraying any of his thoughts, and then he says, “I need a drink”.

 

* * *

 

Steve hangs another heavy bag.

Still hears her voice in his mind.

And he knows sooner or later he’s going to have to talk to her about it.

A part of him hopes it’s real, and that she does love him.

Another part tells him that she just likes the way he looks, that’s all anyone likes anymore.

And part that he won’t even admit exists reminds him that he’s still just a skinny kid from Brooklyn, and no matter what he looks like now, she’s too good for him.

Always would be.

 

* * *

 

Thor puts his hand on Darcy’s shoulder, and she’s suddenly worried that she’s going to get some ‘Father/Daughter’ talk, when Thor opens his mouth and says, “About Steve.”

And Darcy cuts him short with a, “No.”

Thor’s eyebrows rise in surprise, “No what?”

“No, I’m not doing this with you.”

“Am I not your trusted friend?”

He looks almost sad, as though anticipating that she is going to not want to be friends anymore because of the whole time-travel-Loki-Luke-I-am-your-father debacle.

She bumps him with her shoulder and smiles, “Yeah you are.”

“Is this not the role of a trusted friend?” he says, “To assist in times of dilemma?” he pauses and thinks of an appropriate gesture for the situation and says, “I am currently without beer or ice cream, but I can procure some if that would help.”

“No,” Darcy says, laughing.

Thor releases her shoulder and crosses his arms over his chest, “Would it be helpful if I told you Steve is smitten with you?” he asked, one eyebrow raised wryly.

Darcy snorted, “Yeah right.”

“You did not see him on the jet to Columbia my friend, he is most enamored of you.”

She looked at Thor and could see he was wearing his _I can’t lie for shit_ face.

She wants to believe him, but he wasn’t there and he doesn’t know that Steve spent the whole trip back rambling about Peggy.

Darcy shrugged, tried to seem nonchalant, “I just need to figure this out on my own. Thank you though.”

And still playing it down as hard as she could, Darcy walked away.

 

* * *

 

He saw her as he was lifting a new bag to replace the one had had just blasted across the room, his eyes flicked from her to the clock on the wall and back.

11:46 pm.

She was powered down and in street clothes.

Just Darcy.

But there was a change in her he could see; a knowledge that she could handle herself against just about anything put some steel in her spine, and Steve found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the bag.

His fingers itched to draw the jut of her chin and the square of her shoulders, to map every inch of her in charcoal. He gripped his hand in a fist and hit the bag.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asks.

"Couldn't sleep." she replies.

And just like that there's silence, stretching on for longer than either of them are comfortable with.

“So,” he began again, still not sure what to say, and decided to just out with it, “You’re the Valkyrie huh?”

“Yeah.” She said, stretching the word out as she thought it over.

She moved from the door to the bench, picking up his sketchpad.

He stopped the bag from swinging with his fingertips and hit it again with his off hand, “Member of the team now and everything?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Mm Hm.” She says absently as she flips through his work.

“Good.” He says as he nods. Not looking at Darcy, not noticing her interest in his book; he punches the bag again, sweat soaked hair flopping in his eyes.

She gets to the back pages of the sketchpad and she finds a loose sheaf of sketches. It takes her a minute to realize it, but she’s looking at herself; at every angle, in every light, from all over the tower.

“I look beautiful.” She whispers, because she does.

“You are beautiful.” He says and it’s a knee jerk reply; he snaps his head around half to see what prompted her comment and half to gauge her reaction.

And the he sees her with the sketchpad in her hands.

His sketchpad.

The one full of her.

She returns the papers and closes it and carefully, putting the pad back where it was. She looks over at Steve, shifting on her feet and stuffing her hands in her pockets; not sure what to do with them, not sure what to do with herself.

“Are you okay?” she asks, because it’s all she can think of with her head spinning with the idea that Steve’s been drawing her, often.

“What? Why?” he pauses, looking at her in sheer confusion, because this was not the question he was expecting and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Just, you left. Earlier. On the roof. And I-” she stopped with a sigh, not sure how to continue.  

He nods and turns back to the bag, talking as he hits center mass.

“They told me. I mean, Tony and Bruce did, about you being the Valkyrie.” He shakes his head and punches the bag again, “Hearing it’s one thing, seeing it is totally different.”

“I’m sorry.” And she’s genuinely sad.

“No, it’s okay. I just wasn’t ready to see you like that again.”  
  
“Again?”

“Yeah. I mean, the last time I thought I was dead.” He barks out a kind of a laugh as his left fist makes contact with the bag.

“I didn’t think you even remembered last time.” And all she can think about is him in her arms, half dead and asking for Peggy.

Steve nods, “I remember you taking me from the battlefield, I remember thinking you were the Angel of Death. I remember thinking I’d failed you.”

The speed of his blows pick up and the only sound in the gym is the dull thud of his fists.

Darcy’s not paying attention though; because Steve had been thinking of her, not Peggy.

She reels thinking of every nice thing Steve has ever done for her, every gift he’s given her, every look they’ve shared and . . .

“Did you mean it?”

His question startles her and she looks at him, eyes wide; he’s stopped hitting the heavy bag and he’s staring at it instead, focusing all his attention on it as though if he looks directly at her she’ll vanish.

“Mean what?” And now she’s the one surprised by the shift in the conversation.

“When you brought me back; what you said, did you mean it?” He asks over his shoulder, tense as she’s ever seen him, hands in fists as he stands at attention and still doesn’t look at her.

“That it wasn’t your turn?” she asks, because what else could he be asking about, “Of course, I don’t think I could have brought you back if I hadn’t meant it.”

“No, not that part,” he turns and faces her, and she wishes he hadn’t. Not when he looks at her like that, like he’s giving up and it’s killing him, “when you said that you loved me. Did you mean it?”

Darcy’s mouth goes dry and her heart pounds, she hadn’t meant to say it out loud and maybe she hadn’t, maybe in that moment when she brought him back her heard her thoughts. It didn’t matter now, maybe it never had, but she’s not going to lie to him, even if she can’t meet his eyes as she says it.

“Yeah, I meant it.” She whispers, looking away; not ready to admit so much so soon, but completely incapable of denying her feelings.

She hears him move and when she looks he’s standing in front of her, just within arm’s reach.

“Say it again, please,” He whispers, hands fisted, voice brittle and sad, “no one’s said it to me in a very long time.”

She’s always avoided his eyes, their intense blue cutting like a knife and leaving her raw; but not this time, this time she meets them, this time she lets them open her up.

“I love you.” Darcy says, and Steve takes a deep breath, breathing in her words, tasting them. For one long second neither of them move.

Then.

“I love you too.”

Darcy blinks in surprise and his mouth is on hers, teasing her lips apart with his tongue as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, and he pulls back slightly nudging her nose with his, kissing her forhead. She pulls him to her again; opening his mouth with the tip of her tongue, reveling in the feel of his hands on her back, in her hair, pulling her against him.

Steve moves, dropping light kisses on her jaw, her neck, the sensitive skin just below her ear and Darcy gasps. She reaches out for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off over his head.

Beneath she can see the perfect circles of new skin and she remembers the blue of the ice, the red of his blood and the way her heart broke. She kisses each circle in turn; desperate to feel his skin under her lips, to remind herself that he is warm and alive, not cold and dead on the battlefield.

He puts his hand under her chin and lifts her face to his, looking into her eyes.

“I’m here, ok?” he whispers, “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You died for me.” She says, still in shock, still not believing he’s real, still waiting for him to fall to the ground. Tears run hot trails down her cheeks and she has no idea how long she’s been crying.

He touches his forehead to hers, cupping her face in both of his hands and brushing her tears away with his thumbs.

“I would die for you a thousand times.”  He whispers, kissing her again, slow and soft and sweet.

 Darcy smiles into his kiss and he pulls away to look at her, to ask why she’s smiling, but he doesn’t have to ask as she whispers through her smile and her tears.  

“And I would bring you back.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY THE END . . . kind of.  
> I'm kicking around doing some oneshots of this verse, your thoughts on that would be appreciated.   
> Also, if I do that, I'm back and forth on whether to post the epilogue to this as an epilogue or put it out there as a stand alone. Let me know what you think.  
> And if you do want me to continue send me prompts on my tumblr, won't you?   
> inkandash
> 
> Music:  
> First part: Call Me, Call Me, Yoko Kanno  
> Second part: Never Meant to Fail, Alex Lloyd  
> Third part: Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop, Landon Pigg


End file.
